


Let There Be Snow (I'll Be Home For Christmas)

by shouldbeover



Series: Embarrassing senior citizens is fun [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Feels, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Memories, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, bruce and nat are together in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shouldbeover/pseuds/shouldbeover
Summary: The 'orphan' Avengers have a quiet Christmas at the Tower.  Tony makes a Christmas 'miracle,' and Bucky and Steve reminisce.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing like finally writing the Christmas fic. you thought of in September on New Year's Eve. There was going to be smut but my heart wasn't into writing it, so there's a fade to black. Too much dialogue. Inspired by T.J. Hammond playing piano (which sadly Sebastian doesn't actually do) and the fact that RDJ does play several instruments. How to seed clouds is partially true. Could belong in either of my Stucky universes (they get together before the war/they get together after). And I couldn't figure out how to end it. Merry (belated) Christmas.

Bucky was alone in the Tower. Well, relatively alone. Many, many floors below people moved and worked and kept Stark Industries running. Pepper was probably down there too, and he could probably call her. If it got too bad.

It was a bad time. And Bucky wasn't allowed to go on missions when it--he--had a bad time. Even though not going with the team made him want to peel off his own skin with a knife, worrying about Steve, worrying about all of them now, this strange family, going out when things--he--could go wrong wasn't a risk worth taking.

In some ways those people, people who were there and not there was comforting. Kept him feeling rooted. And he wasn't alone because there was always the Tower itself--the AI in the sky as someone, Sam probably, had once called it. Recently Tony had...reinstalled?...Jarvis again, not Vision, but Jarvis. It was unnerving to listen to Vision's voice come from the walls when Vision was sitting right there on the couch, and difficult to grasp how the two were different when in many ways they shared a brain.  
He wandered about the empty halls, down to the gym for a workout, up to the massive library for some new books, settling into the main room of the common floor facing the great glass windows that looked out on an unrecognizable city 100 floors below, ongoing reconstruction from the attack still reshaping things. 

But he couldn't seem to relax enough to read. He walked by the baby grand piano on one of his meandering circuits of the room. A baby grand, such an unobtainable luxury in his and Steve's childhoods, sitting unplayed. It seemed sad, like so many of Tony's toys--bought and discarded on a whim.

He lifted the lid and tried a few chords with his right hand. It was, of course, perfectly tuned.

"Sergent Barnes? If you would like to play the piano there is some sheet music in the bench, and I can print out any song or arrangement you would like."

"Play the piano? No, I... I don't think I know how to, anymore."

"But you did once play? I only ask because you clearly know formal fingering."

"Yes, once. Had lessons as a child. But that was long, long ago. Before I had metal fingers and a brain like a sieve, or a scrambled egg. Or a scrambled egg run through a sieve."

The AI went on, "Would you like to take it up again? I can find you books and videos of instruction, or a living tutor if you prefer."

"No, that's fine. I was just wondering why there was a piano here if no one plays."

"Sir plays."

"Tony? Tony plays the piano?"

"Yes, although he is self-taught. Sir can play most of the instruments in the music room."

"There's a music room?"

"Of course, Sergent Barnes."

"Oh, of course."

There was a long lull in conversation while Bucky contemplated the piano.

The AI mad the tiniest of noises, as if clearing its imaginary throat, "It is on the 63rd floor if you are interested."

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome, Sergent Barnes. All of the instruments are kept in prime condition, cleaned and tuned on a set schedule."

"I really don't think I should...I don't think I can play."

"If you are hesitant about using Sir's equipment, he has instructed that all public rooms be available to all residents of the Tower at all time. This includes the music room as well as the library and gym. And, Sergent Barnes, you will never know if you can if you do not try."

Great, thought Bucky, now the AI is giving me encouraging words.

But a few hours later he found himself taking the elevator to the 63rd floor. Music room was an understatement. There were enough instruments to equip a small orchestra, many he didn't even recognize. There was a baby grand AND an upright, and several electronic keyboards on stands. On the wall were racks and racks of sheet music. 

Hesitantly he sat down at the upright. It didn't seem as intimidating as the two glossy, black grand pianos. He looked at his left hand and flexed the fingers. It was certainly dexterous enough to play, but could he make it do what he wanted?

He placed his fingers and took a deep breath. He ran through some scales in different keys. He was clumsy. He had forgotten many of the sharps and flats for each, he hit wrong notes, and both hands seemed to be locked and awkward. But at the same time, it felt familiar in a way that very little did in his world.

He remembered practicing scales and arpeggios in front of Mrs. Needham on Thursday afternoons, lessons for him and his three sisters, back to back, the tap, tap, tap of the metronome, echoing the tap,tap, tap of Mrs. N's foot. By the time he was in his teens the lessons were an extravagance that his parents had let go, and soon after they sold the piano as well. 

Had he liked playing? He couldn't remember. But as he continued to run up and down the keys he could feel it coming back, the give of the ivory keys and the resistance of the ebony ones. The way certain keys had stuck on his parent's piano, where this one was in perfect condition, each hammer blow exactly the same.

After awhile he got some sheet music and tried to play a song--Amazing Grace. He stumbled, paused between notes as he struggled to set his fingers to the chords, but after an hour he was actually able to bang out something resembling the melody.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Sergent Barnes?"

"Don't tell anyone I came here, ok?"

"Of course, if you wish; unless keeping it secret threatens the safety of the Tower and its occupants." Pause, "Although the odds of that being the case are extremely low."

"Thank you."

After that Bucky would slip down to the music room when the others weren't around, sometimes that meant in the middle of the night. After nearly a month he made up his mind. 

Two months of practicing went by while fall turned into winter and the holidays came around. Holidays at the Tower were surprisingly quiet affairs. Sam, Rhodey, and Clint had families to go to, leaving the orphans, as Tony pointed out, politely not pointing out that he was an orphan _because_ of Bucky. Despite the separate urging of both of their therapists that they find a way to talk about it, neither man seemed willing or able to take that step. 

So the family consisted of Tony in an off part of his on-again-off-again relationship with Pepper, Wanda, Vision, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, and Bucky.

Of course the Tower was decorated from top to bottom, from the lights on the lettering outside to the giant candy canes in the lobby, but Christmas Eve found the seven gathered for a quiet Saturday evening in the common room, fireplace (the only real one in the Tower, venting to the helipad) blazing, holiday alcohol flowing. 

Bucky geared himself up four times over the course of the evening but backed down each time. Someone would suggest a game, or that they NEEDED to watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" for Bucky and Steve's sake, or his own nerves would fail him. Watching Schroeder plink out Jingle Bells on his toy piano (could toy pianos make that sound?) actually unnerved him further. Would he look like he was mimicking the show? Would he fail utterly like Charlie Brown?

It passed on to ten o'clock with Bucky still hovering undecided by the bar. Jarvis spoke so that only he could hear. "Sergent Barnes, if you are still intending to give Captain Rogers his present, I recommend you do so soon. Sir has something planned himself and since I have not told him of your plans, I would hate for the two to be in conflict."

"He's not going to play himself, is he?" Bucky asked, panicked.

"Not to my knowledge, Sergent Barnes."

Bucky pulled himself together with a deep breath and moved over to where Steve was laughing with Wanda and Bruce.

"Um," he began, throat so dry he could barely be heard.

He tried again, "Steve, everyone, um, I'd like to give Steve an early present if I may."

Everyone looked at him expectantly. He thought about saying something more, but decided he would just stumble over his words and make himself more nervous than he already was. Instead he walked to the piano, lifted the lid, pulled out the bench, took out the sheet music, and sat down. 

You can do this, Barnes, he thought to himself. You played Brahms at a recital when you were ten, you can play this.

He trailed his fingers over the keys, giving himself a few extra bars for good measure. His voice was okay. In the 30s and 40s he'd made up what he lacked in range with exuberance, but that well of cheer had been drained away by 1943. "I'll be home for Christmas," he started, almost inaudibly, but growing stronger with each word, "You can count on me." He thought he heard a startled gasp behind him, "Please have snow, and mistletoe..."

He felt rather than saw Steve sit down beside him, back to the piano, "and presents 'neath the tree."

"Christmas Eve will find me..." Steve joined in softly, "Where the love light beams."

Other voices joined in, Bruce's and Tony's, "I'll be home for Christmas, If only in my dreams." Natasha, Wanda, and Vision, unfamiliar with the song still joined in on the last line, "If only in my dreams."

He let the last notes soften and fade away. 

"Oh, Buck," Steve whispered, just for him. "That was beautiful. Thank you. I love you."

Bucky found that he was crying, mourning the lives that he and Steve should have had: not being able to say goodbye to his parents, to watch his sisters grow up, bounce nieces and nephews on his knee. Not saying goodbye to the Howlies, all dead by the time Steve came out of the ice. He and Steve couldn't have been together then as they were now, he reminded himself. Both of them would have needed to get married. Without the war and the serum Steve would have been lucky to see thirty. With the war...with the war Steve would have married Peggy, been part of SHIELD from the beginning. A thousand things different, lost, for all that was gained. And he did count he and Steve here together with the team as a gain, albeit hard won.

Everyone clapped and cheered. Bucky blushed as Steve and Wanda hugged him, and Bruce gripped his shoulder. Tony cut through it all. 

"Cap, let me share the bench with your boy."

Oh, God, thought Bucky. Tony's going to start playing to show me up.

But Tony clapped him on the back and said, "Nice work, Tin Man. I wondered who'd been in the music room and Jarvis told me he'd been sworn to secrecy. Wouldn't even let me cheat and look at surveillance. I think he likes you. You practice anything else? Play whatever you got and I'll join in. But I need you to segue into _White Christmas_ in about twenty. If that's not good for you, I can have Jarvis cue it up."

"No, no, I practiced that one too." Nervously Bucky began to play _Winter Wonderland_. Jarvis helpfully projected the lyrics on the window and everyone joined in. Tony started playing a counterpoint, not overwhelming Bucky's playing, but complementing it. He played as he did all things, boisterously, confidently, and precisely despite no practice and no plan. Bucky began to relax as he realized that Tony was actually trying to help Bucky look good rather than upstage him.

They sang _Jingle Bells_ , and _Deck the Halls_ , _Silent Night_ and _Hark the Herald Angels Sing_ with great enthusiasm. As the last song ended Tony elbowed him and Bucky started the first bars of _White Christmas_. Tony slipped off the bench to the window and said, "Now, if you will, Jarvis."

Jarvis faded the lights until they could clearly see out the window. Above the city cloud lightning flickered. 

It began to snow. Heavy, white flakes that began to accumulate as soon as they landed, quickly coating everything in a blanket of snow. 

"Jarvis, let's stop it at say, five inches, even distribution."

"Of course, Sir."

"You're making it snow?" Steve exclaimed. "That's...that's magical Tony."

As ever when directly complimented Tony became self-deprecating, retreating behind science "Not really that much too it, sent out several hundred drones to seed the clouds with silver iodide, liquid propane, solid carbon dioxide, plus some salts and added in some deuterium to change the freezing and melting points--"

"Wait, wait," Bruce cut in. "You're dropping heavy water on the city?"

"Yeah, but it's not dangerous--"

"Kids eat snow, Tony!"

"Oh, lighten up, Bruce! They'd have to eat half their body weight in snow to even start to have an effect. They'll eat a snowball or two, go in and have hot coco and be right as rain. Or snow...as the case may be. Anyway, the real trick is altering the pressure in the clouds with the drones. That's what's been missing before. AND the great thing is, as the deuterium breaks down, the snow will melt away faster. A couple of small flurries throughout the day to let the kids have a white Christmas, then melt it all before the Monday commute. I'm sending my findings to the UN for use in arid parts of the world."

Bruce shook his head, "I'd like to see some more studies before you deploy it around the globe, like long-term effect on weather patterns...but I have to admit, Tony. It is pretty cool. Well done."

Wanda had her face pressed to the glass. "I don't care what you say, it's magical, Tony. Thank you."

Jarvis played more Christmas music as they all gathered at the window to watch the snow fall and Tony played some sillier Christmas songs to "annoy the Granddads," like _Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer_.

Later after more drinks and laughter Bucky slipped quietly up to Tony's side. "I just wanted, wanted to say thank you, Tony. Thank you for this," he waved at the window, "and just thank you for everything. I know that it can't be...hasn't been easy..."

Tony took him by the shoulder and turned him back to face the group. "You know--it is hard and, well we went down that path, and it still hurts sometimes to look at you--wait, wait, let me finish, but see that girl?" he waved his glass in Wanda's direction, "I killed her parents, not personally, but I might as well have, because I was too, too angry at everything to pay attention to what my own company was doing. I pretty much got her brother killed too, and destroyed her country, then, on top of it pretty much locked her in her room for awhile. Not my finest hour. And she was angry, may still be, but she still...still works with me, doesn't hate me, does so much good when she could use that amazing ability to take me apart and put me back together again in multiple painful ways all the time. 

"And Red, over there. She's not sure how many people she's killed and if any or all of them deserved it. But here she is, trying to put it right because Hawk and Fury believed in her. Vision's got a gem in his head that is apparently one of the most dangerous things in the whole universe, the whole fucking universe, and he's humble and kind, no thanks to me. Brucie's terrified all the time. He hasn't told me, doesn't trust me, but I know he's got contingencies in place if he ever, well can't keep the other guy in check. Your boyfriend, you, got some shitty cards, hell, all of us did, but we got some good ones too, and all we can do is try...try to do no harm. You're here. You're trying to make it better. I gotta trust somebody and it might as well be Mr. Shining-Example-Honor-Personified. He trusts you. I trust...all of them in this room, you included.

"But, if you ever go rogue, you know that I will do everything in my power to take you down, and I can admit that part of me will enjoy it."

"I wouldn't want you to do any less, Tony, if I deserve it. I mean, I think I deserve it ten times over every day, but Steve, Steve keeps me from eating a gun, and I have to trust and thank him for that too. If you need to, if I...I hope that there's enough of me left to help you point the gun at my head and pull the trigger."

Tony nodded without looking at him. "Good we understand one another.

"Ok, glad we had this chat, let's do it again in five or ten years. Next time we'll sing Kumbaya and make friendship bracelets, but for now, your boyfriend is looking worried like he thinks one of us is going to throw the other out the window, so better go make nice." Tony moved off across the room a little too quickly.

The party began to wind down after midnight, and yawns began to replace laughter. Wanda excused herself and everyone else soon begged off leaving Steve and Bucky alone sipping brandy and watching the snow.

Bucky snuggled close to Steve where he sat leaning against the couch.

"What were you and Tony talking about?" Steve asked.

"I...I thanked him for all of this, for not killing me. He shared a little. He's very lonely, you know. I don't think I ever fully appreciated that before. We...we have a truce, of sorts. Then he babbled some Tony stuff that I couldn't follow, typical deflection."

Steve smiled, "Yeah, he is the loneliest guy I know. I'm glad you guys talked."

"Me too," Bucky nuzzled the side of Steve's neck, "but let's stop talking about Tony."

Steve chuckled, "Mmm...what do you want for Christmas, little boy? Let's go to our floor and you can unwrap your present."

Bucky smirked, "Why not do it here?" 

"Bucky, we can't! Anyone could come in."

"Everyone else is in bed. The place is ours. We got a roaring fire, a soft rug, falling snow. Be a shame to waste it. 'Member when we dreamed of living in a big house with fireplaces in every room and plenty of food on the table? Jarvis? What are the rest of the team doing?"

"Sir is in his workroom where he will no doubt sleep. Miss Wanda is reading in bed. Miss Natasha and Dr. Banner are together--"

"Woah," exclaimed Steve. 

"--are reading to one another--"

"Wow," said Bucky, "that's not what I thought you were going to say."

Steve looked thoughtful. "Do they do that often?"

"Most nights, Captain Rogers. I believe it relaxes them. Dr. Banner is reading _A Christmas Carol_ aloud. Miss Natasha has never read it, I believe. It would not have been part of her childhood. Vision is currently reviewing my systems, assisting Sir with calculations, monitoring all major news sources, communicating with several AIs around the globe, playing four hundred and two games of chess, of which 46 are with himself, reading the Bible in several languages, watching--"

"That's fine, Jarvis, thank you," said Bucky. "Could you lock down this room and warn us if anyone looks like they are planning to come in?"

"Of course, Seagent Barnes, but I will warn you that Sir and Vision may have protocols that would allow them to override my systems of which I am unaware."

Bucky smiled, "We'll take our chances. Now, where were we?" His smile turned feral as he began kissing Steve's neck.

Much later, naked and curled in blankets and nearly dozing, Steve said, "I wasn't sure if you remembered you played."

"I thought I did. When I sat down at the piano it sort of came back to me. I don't really remember that much."

"You had natural talent." Steve laughed, "It used to make Becky so mad. She really wanted to be good and struggled so much while you would waltz in about an hour before your lessons, look over what you were supposed to learn and be praised by your teacher for your diligence. You were always like that. Everything was effortless for you. You were amazing. You are amazing."

Bucky turned his face into Steve's chest, embarrassed by the praise and frustrated by the gaps in his memory. "I remember loving you."

Steve smiled and kissed the top of his head. "Now, we really should go to bed. Santa won't come if we're awake."

Bucky snorted. "You mean Tony's drones can't clean up and prepare whatever Tony's next miracle is."

"Same difference. Let's go to bed. And Bucky?"

"Yes, Steve?"

"Merry Christmas."

**Author's Note:**

> "I'll Be Home For Christmas" - 1943, lyricist Kim Gannon and composer Walter Kent, with additional credit to Buck Ram  
> "White Christmas" - 1942, Irving Berlin


End file.
